


Beast's Bride

by Anonymous



Series: Beauty, Grace, and The Beast With a Man's Face [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Animalistic Werewolf, Bestiality, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Marriage, Human Sex, Knotting, Pregnant Character, Vaginal Sex, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: While her worst fears grow inside her, Annette is pressured to seek marriage by her unaware parents. At a ball she meets a mysterious nobleman whom seeks her hand and heart. Unsure how long she can hide her dark secret, she takes the risk and makes the choice that will define the rest of her life.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Beauty, Grace, and The Beast With a Man's Face [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103867
Comments: 15
Kudos: 104
Collections: Anonymous Works





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> So I was completely blown away by how popular the one-off was, and inspired by the commenters that asked for more (I am keeping tabs and reading your guys' comments ;D) that I decided to write a bit more of these two. I don't know how many chapters this will have, but I expect it to only be a few or so, and I'll probably end their tale at that.
> 
> I haven't written plot in quite a long time and haven't written this time period (Regency or Victorian) before, but I binged Bridgerton over the holidays and was totally enthralled. The first fic had 1800's with no particular decade in mind, and this will be as well so I can get away with creative liberties, lol. It's fantasy anyways, werewolves and all.
> 
> I still work full time so don't have a lot of time to write, and I do spend a decent amount of time editing my work to present the best I can offer to you guys, so this will update slowly. I don't know if comments from me remain anonymous so I'm hesitant to reply with updates, but I have no intent to leave this unfinished.
> 
> As before, this is fantasy and I do not condone anything written in this fic in real life.

"Oh how beautiful you look today my love," Annette's mother cooed, entering her daughter's bedroom to see how the maids were doing in dressing her for that evening's festivities. Through thin silken white curtains embroidered with beautiful colorful floral patterns the late afternoon sun shone in rich hues of yellow and gold, illuminating the room and Annette exquisitely.

Her bold crimson red dress with an uplifted ruffled back trailing from the small of her back to the hem shimmered with every movement, the caging beneath accentuating her hips bouncing and shifting slightly as the servants continued their finishing touches. Beaded gold threaded trim along the edges of her V-necked collar, large billowing sleeves, and hem around her ankles glittered brightly in the sunlight. Her hair was glossy and braided, pinned up to the back of her head in a spiraling bun with gold hair pins keeping it in place. 

Make-up covered the dark shadows under her eyes from many sleepless nights from that horrific encounter nearly three months ago, smoothing out the wrinkles at the edges of her eyes and giving her cheeks and lips renewed life with a dusting of rouge and dark red lipstick. Gold and diamond earrings hung from her ears already while an elegant choker also made of gold and diamonds was clasped around her neck by one of the servants, a well groomed silver fox pelt draped around her shoulders finishing off the look.

Despite their unconventional nature for the times, their wealth made their family name not only the talk of the town, but greatly respected and adored. Annette hated every minute of it. 

The last time she tried to run off undercover on her own for a taste of freedom though… She grimaced at herself in the mirror, pressing a hand to her belly. The maids were kind and had obediently listened to her pleas not to tie the corset too tightly when she had to dress in one-- she was beginning to show she was heavy with child, but subtly enough that her parents only remarked she needed to stop snacking on so many pastries and sweets before she couldn't fit into it at all.

"I hope you're ready, my darling. I know things have been difficult since that horrible wolf attack, but I have no doubt you'll have that beautiful smile back on your face by the end of tonight," Annette's mother spoke, appearing beside her in the mirror. She gently pulled her daughter's face by the chin to face her own, smiling lovingly as their gazes met.

Annette forced a smile, eyes watery not in joy, but she played the role as convincingly as she could nonetheless. Anything to make her mother happy. She could never know the truth, never know it was more than a wild wolf attracted to an easy meal. She couldn't fathom how she would be able to hide her pregnancy once she swelled too large to play it off as anything else, nor how to explain she had been raped by a werewolf.

Seeing the expression as genuine, if strained, her mother carefully swept a thumb across her cheek with a light touch to avoid smearing her make up. She embraced her child in a deep hug for several moments before stepping back, tears of joy pricking the corners of her eyes. "I can't believe you're all grown up now, time has passed so quickly. I hope you're excited for your big night, there will be many suitors tonight at the ball," she commented softly, voice wavering with emotion. Recomposing herself with a deep breath and sigh, she patted Annette's shoulder. "The carriage will be ready for us in an hour, please don't dally, okay? We don't want to be late."

Annette dipped her head in acknowledgement, still faking the smile on her lips. "Of course, mother. I won't be long, promise," she replied. Once her mother departed she sent away her servants and collapsed into the chair in front of her vanity, forcing back the flood of tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks. _Who would want such a broken, pitiful thing like me, already violated and defiled? Once everyone finds out no one will desire me. I'm destined only for ruin and poverty, if this abomination doesn't kill me first,_ she thought to herself as she stared at herself in the mirror mired in her thoughts until it was time to depart.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The Belleville mansion was large, vast, and lively. Noble houses from all over the country had gathered for the celebration and festivities, women flocking in droves with family in tow seeking rich husbands, while men on the hunt for equally rich and reputable wives gathered up like hungry wolves on the prowl. Cheerful orchestrated music floated over the cacophony of activity, filling the brightly lit extravagantly decorated halls and out into the courtyard and gardens with delightful tunes meant to inspire wonder and conversation. 

Marble statues of people, angels, cherubs, and animals were scattered everywhere inside and outside; each one tastefully placed in the gardens, in the four tiered fountain centerpiece in the courtyard, and in choice places in the ballroom to draw attention without being distracting. Streamers of colorful velvet fabric canopies decorated the ceiling of the ballroom, each of the three large flower-like blooms extending from around glittering crystal chandeliers, while the walls were covered intricate hand painted scenes of everyday noble life or pristine natural vistas on both the actual face of the hand-sculpted alabaster walls and large framed canvases. Banquet tables were spread as far as the eye could see, with servants catering to everyone's needs throughout the property with trays of drink and hors d'oeuvres.

Annette had settled in quietly amongst a group of friends, doing her best to be involved in their drab conversations and flirting with charming bachelors taking notice from across the room. A few of them were led off to dance with fine looking gentlemen, occasionally returning when a song finished or another woman entreated herself insistently to have her shot at potential love, or more likely, money; the others sticking around and allowing men to lavish them instead with attention and praise.

Several brave souls asked for Annette's hand for a dance, others trying to enter her space for conversation. She could tell they were nervous, or at least most of them were. For appearances she obliged to the shy or interesting few trying to impress her and her watchful parents who were lingering somewhere nearby no doubt, but the pompous and cocky bastards she turned down sharply, giving them no quarter. She was terrified of the idea of them, they reminded her so much of the way the werewolf treated her: a plaything to please them and sate whatever dark desires their crooked smiles hid.

The only people she truly bore some sliver of enjoyment with were those that didn't hide behind any mask, presenting confidence without the narcissism, their conversations together honest and unafraid to drop the stuffy manners expected given their high status.

"May I have this dance, madam?"

Standing at one of the banquet tables dressing a bite-sized cracker with various offered toppings, Annette heard a masculine voice speak. It was suave, deep, and smooth on the ears. She tentatively turned her head to look, seeing a tall and broad chested man standing there.

Long dirty blond hair well groomed and left loose to sweep over his wide shoulders framed a square jawed clean shaven face, bright blue eyes meeting her hazel brown ones. With an inviting smile on his lips, he had one hand extended out slightly between them, ready to accept her hand or gracefully retract if denied. Dressed in a fine midnight-blue suit with a silver colored vest and a black ascot tucked inside, a white undershirt could be seen peeking out from beneath. Polished silver buttons with large glittering cut sapphires set in their centers were sewn into both the jacket and the vest, with more silver thread embroidery lining the edges of his overcoat in a tasteful display of wealth.

Annette couldn't help but stare, taken slightly back by the sight. She glanced down at his hand, large and gloved in pristine white, and back up to those piercing eyes that had remained fixated on her own. Without breaking eye contact she tucked the cracker into her mouth and slipped her black elbow-length glove back on before placing her hand in his with an aloof air, asserting her dominance as a Compton.

The corner of the man's lips quirked up further in a charmed smirk, folding his fingers over hers as he led her to the dance floor where they slowly felt out each other's motions. Eventually they fell into rhythm, a hand each clasped together with one of hers on his bicep feeling thick and strong muscle flex through the fabric as her forearm rested along his, his great paw of a hand holding her close at the small of her back.

"I must admit I am surprised you accepted my offer," he commented lightheartedly in that rich, alluring voice. "I won't lie, I've been watching you much of the night turning suitors down left and right. I wasn't sure if you would've found me deserving to bask in your beauty."

Annette gave him an insincere smile. "I care little for their sweet little lies and pretenses, I'd much rather meet my love naturally than parading ourselves around for the highest bidder. Besides, such extravagant parties have never been an interest to me anyways, impressing others I have no desire to entertain isn't exactly what I consider 'fun'."

"Oh?" he cocked an eyebrow before giving her a fanciful twirl. "I suppose I have no chance at sweeping you off your feet then with my dazzling wit and impressing physique?" he joked, making a humorously blatant and false effort to look dismayed.

"You may try. You aren't as revolting as some of the _beasts_ here that have the audacity to call themselves men," she replied as she flicked her gaze to a few select individuals within her periphery that she recognized, giving them sour grimaces.

"We all have monsters inside us my dear, even you," he countered with a playful chuckle before noticing her face pale. "I jest, honestly. Just something to lighten the mood," he tried to placate, rubbing tiny circles soothingly into her back. "May I know your name?"

Annette swallowed thickly and gripped his arm tight, trying to mentally center and recompose herself as dark thoughts began to creep back to the forefront of her mind. Taking a deep breath, she looked back up at him square in the eye, trying to regain control of the situation. "Shouldn't the man introduce himself first?" she countered.

"Ah, apologies. I'm forgetting my manners it seems. I am Lord Ulf Froderson-Clifford, Marquis of Arrendale," he introduced proudly.

"That's quite an exotic name you have," she remarked, surprised. "Of Arrendale you said? That's quite close to where I'm from, I'm surprised we have not yet met before." It took a few seconds for her to recognize the name as being a new family lineage introduced to the region through marriage a couple generations ago, but once she did she nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Ah, you must be the former marquis' son. My condolences to your loss, my Lord," she offered sympathetically with a polite dip of her head, inwardly wincing she couldn't remember his father's name. They were quite wealthy as well she knew, but they almost never attended such social gatherings. "I am Lady Annette Compton, daughter of George and Charlotte Compton, Earl and Countess of Kincardine," she introduced.

Ulf smiled with a tilt of his head, eyes hooded as they flitted over her face, taking each detail in. "Ah, Kincardine. A pleasure to meet you proper at last, Lady Compton. Have you ever been to Arrendale?"

Annette opened her mouth to speak but paled again and quickly shut it, shaking her head a little more dramatically than she meant to. It had been a small town within Arrendale she was travelling to that day when she was stranded in her carriage on the road, thick forest all around her where, somewhere, that prowling beast that assaulted her lived. _Does he know? Has he ever tried to stop the attacks?_ Nowhere she knew of was known for having populations of werewolves specifically, as they seemed to be a rare occurrence only in the most remote of areas, but surely others had reported the monster skulking about in the area?

Noticing the change in demeanor, Ulf carefully smoothed some stray hairs on Annette's head and offered her a warm, comforting smile. "I'm sure you hear it all the time, but you are spectacularly beautiful," he complimented almost reverently, leaning his head forward slightly toward her ear, whispering, "It's starting to feel a bit stuffy in here I'm finding. Perhaps we can step out into the gardens for a bit of fresh air?"

Annette's eyes widened when Ulf began to lean towards her and tensed, ready to twist away if she sensed him closing in for a kiss or another intimate gesture. To her relief he had only done so to whisper, but she still felt on edge, troubled by her thoughts and the possibility of unwelcome ulterior motives that men often had, she found. With as much light and activity around them though, perhaps a stroll would do her some good?

Allowing him to lead her out, they casually made their way into the open gardens, the flowers and bushes in full bloom now that they were in late spring. Many others were there too to admire the immaculately kept grounds and sculptures, putting Annette at ease being out at night.

As a waiter passed with a tray of drinks Ulf quickly stopped him and plucked a couple off, handing one to Annette as they continued on their way. They walked for some time to cool down and recollect themselves, and Annette felt herself calm and grow comfortable at his side.

"How have you been enjoying tonight?" Ulf asked, breaking the silence.

Annette gave a one-shouldered shrug, sipping the wine he had given her. Now that they had some margin of privacy she felt more free to speak her mind; she hated hiding herself, hated being fake, hated the expectation to stay prim and proper and avoid offending people's ‘delicate sensibilities'. "If I may be plain, it has been marginally bearable, if only because I haven't been hounded at every turn by insufferable buffoons trying to claim me for my family's wealth and repute," she answered frankly.

Ulf chuckled, a broad grin on his face. "I've seen the way you turned some of those _insufferable buffoons_ down. You have that glare honed to a razor edge. I have the sense about you that you are quite the spitfire, no?"

"I can be," she answered simply, chin upturned unashamedly. "I don't care for the rules and propriety of high society, especially for us women. I find myself chafing against it all-- how our lives are meant to revolve basically exclusively around the home and marriage, offering ourselves like prize cattle to men only to serve under them after we wed, and producing heirs. There are so many more things I could be spending my time on." Sighing in frustration, she slumped her shoulders seemingly in defeat, sweeping her gaze across the other guests.

Nodding in understanding, Ulf looked around at the festivities around him and gave an almost wistful sigh. "My father was never one for all… this," Ulf gestured vaguely toward the mansion and the crowds of people surrounding them. "Things were different in my household, my sister and I had a lot more freedom to do as we pleased, but unfortunately we were also lonelier for it. We didn't visit other families much and our mother didn't let us play with the children in town, so there wasn't actually much to do except attend our studies." He sipped his drink and shrugged dismissively, chasing the past from his mind. "They came in handy at least. It isn't easy being a marquis."

"If only we swapped childhoods," Annette joked, glad that the ice had broken between them. "I'd love nothing more than to pursue the whims of my passions as I pleased."

"And what might those whims and passions be?" Ulf inquired as he rested his hip against a column of marble, a rearing stag sculpture standing atop it, attention focused with interest on her.

"I--Mmm, well. Reading and writing stories have always been particular favorites of mine, as is travelling. I long to see the world and experience other cultures," she said longingly, seating herself on the vacant, well sculpted stone bench beside the stag sculpture. "I dream of sailing along the coasts of exotic lands, palm trees lining beaches of white sand. Shopping in marketplaces bursting with color and the smell of spices and unfamiliar food cooked right there in front of you. Musicals, plays, cultural celebrations and other festivities they entertain themselves with-- I read and read and imagine myself in those places, but I know words and art pale in comparison to the real thing. I do not wish to merely observe from afar, but immerse myself wholly into it," she rambled on passionately, her glass set down beside her so she could gesticulate for emphasis without spilling.

Ulf listened intently, brows raised in delighted surprise as Annette opened up to him with a force and presence few other unmarried women would dare show. His heart thumped hard in his chest, mind and body torn between pulling her up into a passionate kiss and keeping up appearances for the sake of reputation when every bold move was high risk with no guarantee of reward. Instead he set his glass aside and knelt down before her, taking one of her hands in both of his."I have many connections through blood and marriage throughout the world through both my parent's lines. My family tree is wealthy and expansive, I could take you anywhere your heart desires," he proposed.

Annette leaned back in shock, the walls coming back up as she crossed her other arm defensively across her chest, the other too firmly held to pull out of his grasp without making a scene. "My Lord--"

"Ulf, please call me Ulf," he interrupted.

"Ulf… Please-- I-I cannot, we aren't married, my parents would never allow it. Even if they did, I--" the hand lowered instinctively to the slight swell of her belly before she realized it, and quickly brought it back up to her chest when she saw his gaze lower, eyes wide.

"You are with child?" he whispered softly in a tone she couldn't place-- awed? Nonplussed?

"It is nothing," she denied, scowling at him. She tried to retract her hand from his, but he held it tightly.

"I do not care, it matters not to me if you have already laid with another-- unless he loves you as well? It is no question that I will love and care for th--"

" _It is nothing_ " Annette snapped in a harsh, but hushed voice, forcibly tearing her hand from Ulf's. "I wish to return to my friends now. I bid you goodnight, Lord Froderson-Clifford." Shuffling sideways on the bench to slip out around him, she promptly stood and briskly walked away, keeping her posture straight and confident to hide her disgruntlement.

Ulf lingered in place a moment longer after she was gone, snarling with closed lips before schooling his expression back to proper features. Rising to his feet, he heaved a frustrated sigh and collected both glasses, promptly downing them both and leaving them behind as he reluctantly reintegrated himself into the crowds, ingratiating himself with other families as his thoughts of Annette churned in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the courting begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho boy, sorry this took so long guys. Re-learning how to write dialogue is absolute a g o n y ಠ_ಠ
> 
> Needed to take time with this and set it aside for inspiration to come to me so I didn't burn out. Took a lot out of me, but I'm happy with how it turned out, and I hope it's alright? So long as I stay on track with my brainstorming, there will be smut next chapter

Annette slowly drew the bow over the strings of her violin, producing a long, deep note as she began her song. It was a somber tune, one of longing for lost innocence and a foreboding future. Most of her songs nowadays were, she lacked the zest for life that she pulled inspiration from to play the brighter and cheerful ones she had once loved so dearly. 

For the past week suitors came to greet her and curry favor with her parents, but many whom she met to spend time with seemed disingenuous, silver tongued and only eager to please her so long as they believed they had a chance. Even with her family's eccentricities letting her have the freedom of mind, she was still groomed all her life for this, to be married off to whoever her parents deemed worthy of her hand and their fortune. That she had weight to influence their decision was a small blessing, however fleeting such a notion was.

Today was a quiet day as she practiced alone in the family music room, the semi-opaque white curtains closed to mute the midday sun shining through. No suitors had come to charm her into his arms, her father was away socializing with friends, and her mother was giving her much needed space. Annette wondered what became of Ulf, noting he hadn't been among the suitors that came to visit so far. She was still quite miffed at him, but she couldn't truly blame him for something he had no part of.

 _Was he honest about what he said? Would he truly care for me and this child?_ She wasn't even sure if the baby would be human or not. She had read about how Poseidon's magical bull had bred with Minos' charmed wife, Pasiphae, impregnating her. The result of that union was the half-man, half-beast minotaur. The thought of producing such a creature filled her with dread, but werewolves were cursed humans as far as she was aware-- people with bestial forms they could shift between through vile magic. Perhaps the child would at least pass for human long enough for her to figure out what to do with them?

A gentle knock at the door shook her from her brooding, pulling her back into the present moment.

"Annette dear, you have a suitor," her mother's voice said through the closed door to the room before slowly opening it to pop half her body inside the doorway. "I think you'll like him, he's quite dashing and a delight to speak with," she continued, giving Annette an anxious but hopeful smile, doing her best to hide her internal distress over her daughter's melancholy.

"Not interested," Annette refused dismissively, getting back into position to continue playing.

"Your father insisted on it, and well, you know your father," her mother persuaded a little more firmly. "You _will_ need to choose someone before it's too late, or we'll have to choose for you. I won't have my daughter waste away alone and barren, ostracized by society because she was too picky to compromise," she added on with that motherly sternness that had Annette bristle.

"Men are little better than barnyard animals," Annette snidely remarked, pointedly facing away from the doorway.

"Don't think I don't already know that, but such are the times we live in. Now, if you must continue playing while he is visiting, please choose something more lively. You'll give the very wallpaper melancholy," her mother sternly suggested in a tone that sounded more like a politely worded demand, leaving just as she finished speaking to notify the suitor he could come meet Annette.

A few minutes passed and in the doorway Ulf appeared, dressed more plainly than he had at the ball, but no less distinguished. Dressed in a black tailcoat, a decorative patterned two-toned ochre vest with gold buttons, and tan pants, he held a black top hat in his hands along with a decoratively tooled black leather bag. His hair was tied back this time in a ponytail, the left side broken up into several thin braids. He gave Annette a tentative smile as he took a step inside and bowed slightly to her.

Dressed in a cream colored dress with a rose gold and beige giant check print pattern, lace trimmed layers down the skirt and large poofy sleeves slimming from the elbow down, Annette sat a bit standoffish to him, her instrument in her lap. She wore just a little make up and some simpler, subtler jewelry today to look presentable, her hair let down to flow past her shoulders in bouncy curls.

Ulf couldn’t help but stare for a moment, enraptured by her homey appearance devoid of the extravagant fanciful ornamentation that was expected when leaving the home. Clearing his throat and recomposing himself, he took note of her body language and opted to set the compliments aside, assuming she was probably quite tired of them after a long week of entertaining man after man trying to ingratiate themselves to her.

"I hope I am not intruding on anything important, your mother seemed a little… miffed?" he began, "but I wished to see you again and apologize for my forwardness before. I understand somewhat the expectations placed upon women, and to--" pausing, he leaned and turned back to look into the hallway to see it empty. Relieved no one was idling around nearby to listen to them, he righted himself and continued, "to be in your situation - if I was correct - unmarried, is quite taboo. I however feel no such upset as such a thing, and merely wished to help," he said placatingly.

Annette held her tongue and listened, frowning irritably at him when he brought up her predicament again, but once again she reminded herself he wasn't in any wrong by it. Still, she remained guarded.

"Apology accepted, thank you," she said simply. "Do you still seek my hand or did you only come for that?"

"Both," Ulf responded. "I've spoken to your father some this past week, and had a wonderful tea just now with your mother. They're very lovely people and they speak so highly of you and your character and interests.” Lifting his bag a little, he smiled. “It was difficult to acquire these in just a week, but when reflecting upon our time at the ball, I thought perhaps instead of flowers and jewelry you would enjoy gifts of a more practical sort."

Walking up to a table, he placed his things down and rifled through the bag, pulling out a black leather-bound folder and a few hardcover books which he laid out for her to read the gold debossed titles. "I hope you enjoy these. They're memoirs from people who spent their lives travelling the world delving deep into the indigenous cultures and the everyday lives of the common folk who live there. I hope they will be to your liking.”

Annette hesitated for a moment but came over to inspect the books, running her fingers over one of their covers. _Dreaming on Sunny Shores: A Memoir of Central America by Anton LaVugen_ it read, bound in a light beige. _Warm Hearts and Warm Hearths in the Frozen North: Living in the Russian Frontier by Bertholt Hungfrid_ read a second, bound in a pale blue. _Spice of Life: A Look Inside the Many Cultures of the South Pacific Islands by Dolores Castilla_ read the third and last book, bound in a ruddy orange-red. Despite herself, she smiled, her stiff demeanor softening. Her gaze moved to the folder which remained closed in Ulf’s hand. “What’s that you’re holding?” she inquired curiously.

Pleased with her reaction, Ulf grinned wide, happy his efforts appeared to have paid off. He presented the folder with a slight wave motion when she brought it up, and strode casually to the polished grand piano in the room. “Music my dear. I hear you play a variety of instruments so I thought maybe instead of talking awkwardly, we could do something fun together. Alas I’m only skilled in the piano and cello, but if you are interested in joining me, I’ve no doubt we can make some beautiful music together,” he spoke as he walked over, placing the folder splayed open on the piano and flipping through to a particular piece he was clearly eager to share as he seated himself.

Annette came over and leaned her hip against the piano, intrigued. “You first and maybe I’ll join,” she decided, still on the fence whether or not to entertain his advances. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind that niggling fear of her pregnancy being discovered before she was married still wormed through her thoughts and worries, but as did binding herself forever to someone she knew little about, willingly or not. The knowledge her time to decide was - for one reason or another - running out was chilling.

“Very well,” Ulf nodded, and he began to play. The song started off quiet, but when it picked up it was very different than what she was accustomed to. It was whimsical and boisterous, blending notes together into something soulful and invigorating. The music she was most accustomed to and what was most popular and accepted in the circles of the upper class she found more often than not either too dramatic and intense, or much like she was playing earlier, depressingly lethargic and somber. She had recognized early in life that conflict and tragedy in art and plays were long running themes and particular favorites among those who would likely never suffer a day in their lives, something that she found incredibly tiresome.

This was flawed but full of life however, as if written out in a spurt of inspiration and allowed to speak for itself rather than refined and distilled into a perfect essence. Once the song came to an end she pretended to be only mildly entertained and took the folder to flip through the sheet music he had brought along until she picked one that had another interesting melody she hummed the notes to in her mind, and positioned it back in front of Ulf to play.

He obliged, and Annette closed her eyes, letting her mind drift to happier thoughts if only for a few minutes as the gentle upbeat rhythm ebbed and flowed like calm waves on the lakeshore her parent’s villa overlooked. Too soon that too came to a close and silence filled the room once more. She opened her eyes and sighed, looking down at Ulf’s hands, his fingers still resting on the keys they played last. The skin was a shade darker than his face and rougher than she was used to seeing on a nobleman, and marked with a smattering of thin white scars. His fingers were long and thick, and she imagined given his general size he was probably quite strong in addition to clearly dextrous.

“What do you think?” he asked, looking up at her expectantly.

“I like them, very enchanting; exotic even. Did you compose them yourself?” she replied.

“I wish, but no. They’re songs from India, originally played with other instruments and translated into sheet music by a distant cousin of mine years ago as a birthday gift so I could play them. They would sound better with multiple instruments to fill them out, but solo has its charm as well,” he explained. “Come, play with me. You’re welcome to sit beside me and we can both use the piano, or you can choose something else if you’d prefer.”

"Very well," Annette agreed, giving in. Not that it was hard to after such a welcome change of pace helping to give her a reprieve from her depression. She picked her violin up and tended to it, preparing to join him in a duet.

They played in comfortable silence for a time, no words necessary as they filled the space with joyful music instead, and Annette slowly felt her heart warming to this endearing man. Not all men were terrible, she supposed; maybe there were a sparse few good ones out there. For the first time in months, she felt lighter, and for a little while her troubles were forgotten.

“Where does your family hail from?” Annette spoke suddenly as they finished another song. By now they were onto the family collection, picking out her favorite pieces to play. Thus far in their interactions she realized all the attention had been on her, and so little on Ulf whom she hardly knew anything of.

“My father’s side originates from the Scandinavian territories, but we can count family through blood and marriage throughout much of the European mainland and the Americas. My mother’s side is primarily British, though. What of yours?” he asked in turn as he shuffled over on the bench, gesturing for her to sit with him.

Annette did so shyly, sitting near the end with several inches of distance between them. “European, mostly British as well. We have many relations through the mainland, some close and many not so much. We take vacations to Greece, France, and Italy a few times a year to visit our closest family, but the rest have been more political than anything else.”

“Would you ever like to come with me to meet my cousins in Sweden?” Ulf inquired eagerly. “It’s a beautiful country in the summer. It’s not always the warmest, I’ll admit, but the people are wonderful and a rich history. We could spend our days exploring the ancient architecture that still dot the countrysides, peruse museums and art galleries, and maybe even travel up into the mountains to get away from the hustle and bustle of modern life. I’ve been to a few famous lodges with incredible views of the nearby mountainsides and valleys,” Ulf said as he smiled warmly, confidently placing a hand down in the space between them and leaned in slightly. He caught her gaze when she looked at him, offering his other hand to her hopefully.

Annette nervously twirled a lock of her hair, mulling it over for several moments. “Perhaps. Things are of course up in the air right now with all that is going on, and even if I may have influence over my parent’s decision who I am to wed, their word is final. They could decide a year from now, a month, or even tomorrow,” she shrugged, sagging her shoulders in dismay. 

"My offer still stands, my dear," Ulf softly reminded, lowering his voice. "I will take no offense if you choose another, but I cannot say they will feel the same when they discover you are expecting in however many months. I meant what I said. I think children are wonderful, and I would never turn one away no matter what."

Annette cast her eyes down at her lap, wringing her hands together uncomfortably. "Even a monster?" she whispered.

"If that is what you think of them, yes. Even a monster," Ulf nodded, shifting a few inches closer to her and placing a gentle hand on her far shoulder with the barest touch. "You need not struggle alone, dear Annette. I will be there every step of the way if you'd have me."

Annette froze straight and stiff as a board when Ulf moved closer, feeling rough fingertips ghosting over her shoulder and bicep. Her instinct was to stand and leave to avoid facing any of the decisions bearing down on her, but his words were kind and carried weight that couldn't be ignored. She swallowed thickly and continued to fidget before finally turning her head enough to see Ulf more clearly in her periphery. Not only did he seem to be genuinely kindhearted, he was absolutely dashing, charming, and manly. A strong jaw and evocative blue eyes that drew her in. Kind, handsome-- could she really afford to lose this opportunity?

Sensing her uncertainty, Ulf brought his other hand up to trail his fingers along her jawline, guiding her face to look at him proper. The tension between them was full of tumultuous energy as he searched her expression for any objection, and to his chagrin he could see in her eyes she wasn’t as eager as he hoped for a first kiss.

Annette covered Ulf’s hand with hers and lowered it, looking off distantly for a brief moment as she gathered her thoughts. “What do you know of werewolves?” she whispered in a serious tone, abruptly changing topics.

“Werewolves? I-- What of them?” Ulf returned quizzically.

“I-- I’ve heard tales of werewolves in Arrendale. Recent sightings, an attack even if the rumor I heard is true,” she clarified in a white lie. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him. She didn’t want to; not him, not her parents, not anyone. It was a secret she would die with.

Ulf took a heavy breath and pursed his lips, nodding. “Over the past several decades there have been some sightings, but interactions have been quite rare. Several months ago there had been talk of a sighting close to a town, so my father increased police patrols to stay on guard. Apparently a few months ago there had been an attack on a carriage on the road near the southeastern border, and in response I’ve placed a curfew on every town and settlement that no one is to travel after dark with the exception of hunters I’ve hired to investigate whether or not it was truly a werewolf or an oversized, but ordinary wolf possibly either rabid or aggressive out of hunger. Arrendale has always been known for ‘curious’ activity,” he air quoted, “and so all our towns and cities are walled and quite safe within their boundaries,” he explained calmly, hoping to assuage any trepidation.

Annette slowly nodded, still not quite looking at Ulf directly. She still felt tense and flighty, knowing that horrid monster was still roaming free, but if measures were indeed being taken to deal with it, well. She gave a nervous nod and a tiny smile, her decision still not set one way or the other. “I have a great fear of them, but for you, I will consider your offer,” she tentatively agreed.

With that their time together came to a close and Ulf packed his things. He walked side by side with Annette and her mother as he was escorted to the door, exuding regal charm and steadfast confidence once more while Annette remained more or less detached and mechanical. Before he left he looked to Annette and took her hand, placing an affectionate kiss on it with a polite bow.

"It's been an absolute pleasure meeting with you again, my Lady," he said sadly, rubbing gentle circles over her hand as he held it in both of his. "I had a lovely time today, thank you for hosting me. I hope that I can return the favor next time if you would be amiable to it,” he said to both women. 

"Oh yes, we absolutely must. I will speak to my husband about it tonight. I'm sure we will be in touch," Annette's mother eagerly agreed, beaming brightly. She looked to her daughter and rubbed her back and looked again at Ulf.

Annette offered a small smile with mixed emotions, curtsying to Ulf with a simple “thank you.”

Ulf bowed again to each of them with his top hat in hand pressed to his chest, and took his leave, a bit of a cheerier spring in his step as he made his way back to his awaiting carriage at the cobblestone U-shaped road cutting through the forecourt.


End file.
